


The Music Box

by thecityofthefireflies



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 07:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11664318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecityofthefireflies/pseuds/thecityofthefireflies
Summary: Elrond reflects on a music box given to him by Maglor in his childhood





	The Music Box

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by a tumblr post [@radioactive-earthshine](https://tmblr.co/mytmT6dpkR5fYgz3d8U7D5A) ‘s [comment on the video of a music box playing lotr music](http://radioactive-earthshine.tumblr.com/post/162491838237/woodissimo-the-in-dream-soundtrack-cover-music) and the idea stuck in my mind for a few days and I kept seeing that video so I finally wrote this short thing 

The music box was a little thing;  the wood was worn and pale in spots from being held over the millennia and the punched sheets that fed into it were on their upteenth iteration of replacement.  But the mechanisms still worked and the tinny melodies that clicked out from it were precious.

There had been two of them, identical, made for identical little peredhel boys.  One was lost, likely smashed in some raid of cleaning or rotting away in the ruins of Númenor long unplayed to the ear it had been made for.  But the other remained finely kept, oiled and tuned and treasured.  

Maglor was not considered very mechanically or metallurgically inclined in his family, but even a least gifted Feanorion was superior to the average smiths of many other houses.  And a music box combined his passion for song with the technological talent of his family.  

Perhaps in another life, one where Maglor had become known only as a bard of nigh unmatched skill, they would have been made commercially.  But fate played out differently.  And thus Maglor’s hands only crafted a few of the little boxes.  

The melodies punched into the cards were of some of Maglor’s favorite compositions to play for the children.  The metallic notes were of jaunty dances, nursery songs, and cheerful verses.  The clicked pieces were a poor facsimile of the powerful chords of Maglor’s harp or throat, but better than being left only to memory.  

Elrond would always lament that he had no great talent for music.  He could play a harp and sing well enough, but had no great skill for plucking out new melodies or one by ear.  

It took him back to a time long past, perhaps not a simpler time, but one less weighty for him.  When after sunsets, he and Elros would sit by the hearth with Maglor and hear him play or sing, the stress leaving his eyes for a few brief moments.  And Maedhros would slip into the space and stand against the wall or sit to the side and listen with a rare closed lip smile gracing his face.  For he could not deny himself his brother’s music nor could he deny Maglor his longest standing audience.  

Elrond had used the music box infrequently when he had lived with the brothers, for easy access to the real thing made the fragments of melody less desired.  But once he had left them, it was elevated to a source of comfort.  

At first it was a way to add a physical level to remembrances of his childhood and the elves that had raised him.  And then it was a way to feel connected to Elros.  Later, to remember him as well.  The notes were taken from the strips and arranged for instruments to play at his wedding to Celebrían.  He had tried to bring her comfort with it while she withered in the months before she sailed.  

The music was harmonized with memories.  

The music box let him share the songs held in his mind and heart with his children and family.  

Elladan and Elrohir had been quick to pick up the melodies and demand the lyrics to go along.  When Arwen came along, with a better ear than her father, she would pluck out arrangements.  And thanks to Lindir, any inhabitant of Imladris could be caught humming snatches.

During his extended stay in Rivendell, an aging Bilbo Baggins copied down both the sheet music and the pattern of holes and sketches of the mechanism in loose pages kept between the pages of his book.  After his quest, Frodo brought the music to the Shire.  

And from there, Elrond could only hope it lingered and spread in some way.  For the original box itself was accompanying him to Valinor, to complete the circle of Maglor’s music.  

And he was always grateful that aside from himself, some legacy beyond bloodshed lasted.  For Maglor’s heart had always been in his music, not his blade.  

And that heart could continue beating with tapping feet for many years in many lands.  


End file.
